“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he exclaims, and that anger morphs into what I think might be fear. It’s a look I’ve never seen on him.
“I do know what I’m talking about.” I lower my voice to an even keel. “You’ve changed, and not for the better. You’re spiraling, and if you don’t figure out a way to stop it, you’re going to find yourself with no team and no friends.”
Coen looks off across the parking lot, not really staring at anything, but I can tell my words give him pause.
“Tell me how to help you, and I’m all over it.”
Coen’s eyes coming to mine, and they seem empty. His voice… dead. “You can’t help me.”
That’s not a statement I’d ever argue with him about. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need someone’s help. “A therapist. Let’s get you in to talk to a professional. With everything you’ve been through—”
“I don’t need a fucking shrink,” he snarls, his tone laced with denial and fury.
He’s wrong about that, but again, I’m not going to argue with him. He’s too volatile. So I offer him the only truth I can. “You need help, Coen. You’re on a path of self-destruction, and frankly, I don’t think you have the strength to pull yourself off it. I’m here if you need me. I’ll get you help somewhere else if you want it. It will stay between us. But you’ve got too much fucking potential to give all this up. You’re going to ruin your life, and I don’t want to see that happen.”
“It’s no more than I deserve,” he mutters.
My chin jerks inward. “Why would you say that?”
“Never mind,” he says and pivots away from me.
“Coen,” I call out as he starts a trot between the rows of cars.
He ignores me and disappears into the darkness.
“Shit.” I rub my hand over my jaw in frustration. I honestly don’t know what to do for the guy. I don’t even know if I can do anything, but I have to talk to someone about it. Keller’s out of the question. He can’t stand Coen and will offer no constructive help.
Probably Callum would be the best bet.
I pull out my phone and send him a quick text. I need to talk to you about Coen. I’m worried.
Pocketing my phone, I head toward my car. I don’t feel like going back in for a beer. Maybe I’ll call Jenna when I get home.
My phone rings, and I pull it out. It’s Callum. That was surprisingly fast but proves he cares about his team.
Connecting the call, I say, “Hey… thanks for calling.”
“You’re worried, then I’m worried,” he says. “What’s going on?”
I tell him about the exchange that just happened, the general tension among the players because of Coen, and the unstable situation between Coen and Keller.
“He needs help,” I say.
“He does, but you know we can’t force him to do anything,” Callum replies.
“I know. But someone needs to try. He won’t accept anything from me.”
“I’ll talk to Brienne. I think we’re at the point we need to strongly encourage him to see someone. It would be best coming from me, but I want to make sure she’s on board with that.”
“Sounds good.” I let out a breath of relief. Someone is going to do something.
“Thanks for caring about this enough to reach out,” Callum says. “Some people just don’t want to get too involved.”
We disconnect, and once again, I move toward my car.
CHAPTER 8
Jenna
“Had you googled me…”
He was teasing, of course, but that’s what Gage said to me at the party four nights ago. I’d instead opted for the old-fashioned route and asked him questions.
But then, everything went wrong. His friend showed up and was pushing him to go on a blind double date. If I were a woman of extreme confidence, I’d look back on things and say that Gage didn’t want to go. I could read it in his body language and in the way he tried to blow off his friend.
But the insecure Jenna—the one who couldn’t accept Gage was sitting with her for any reason other than to be nice—was more than willing to believe that Gage wanted to go on that double date pushed him away.
I simply became too overwhelmed and convinced myself that Gage would prefer a blind date with a hot stranger to continuing a nice getting-to-know-you conversation with me.
So I fled. Right back over to Baden and Sophie who thankfully didn’t want to stay much longer.
“Had you googled me…”
Because I must be a glutton for punishment, I have indeed googled Gage since that night. While I’ve convinced myself that we shall never be anything more than friends, I can’t help stalking him online.
He’s a fascinating man.
Gorgeous, smart, accomplished.
And the more I read about him, the more I became convinced that this amazing guy is way out of my league.